


Gauge Your Interest

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: Their Life in France [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: DIY!Will, Domestic Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, Idiots in Love, Knitting, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Loves Hannibal, Will gets crafty, jealous!Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will secretly learns to knit so he can make Hannibal a scarf.  Somehow doofy Hanners thinks Will is having an affair.  Domestic fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gauge Your Interest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [victorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/gifts).



> Victorine: some Hannigram domestic fluff in appreciation of your [Spacedogs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6934327) domestic fluff.
> 
>  

Forget that knit one, purl two bullshit he’d heard about his entire life. Will felt fortunate he could manage a damn garter stitch. It had started easily enough. He was shopping for fabric to make a new pillow for [Simone’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5833072/chapters/14315842) bed when he saw the skeins of silky mauve yarn in a basket by the window. He walked over and picked one up gingerly, rubbing it against his face causing the yarn to catch slightly on his stubble.

The shop owner approached him and said, “That is 100% cashmere. Very soft, very beautiful.”

“It is very soft, isn’t it?” Will said.

“Do you knit?” she asked.

“What? Oh, no. I don’t.” 

She smiled at Will, “Would you like to learn, dearie?”

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it. I’m not good with delicate things. I can make a fishing lure, but this seems like a different beast altogether,” he said shrugging his shoulders. 

The shop owner smiled warmly, “The yarn called to you. It seems you had someone in mind when you saw it. Perhaps you’d like to knit something for her?”

Will stroked the yarn absentmindedly picturing Hannibal proudly wearing a gorgeous scarf Will had made just for him. He replied, “There’s no _her_. It would be for my husband.”

“Oh, how lovely! Well, it is a bit slow in the shop right now. Let’s say you buy the yarn and some needles and I show you how to knit a scarf for him that he will love.”

Will smiled nervously at her, “I don’t know…”

“He has expensive taste, does he?” she asked.

“How did you know?”

“Dear, if this yarn made you think of him --”

Will smiled, “Yes, it’s definitely him.”

**+++**

Clotilde was patient. She had to be as Will had warned her he wasn’t good with delicate things. “Dear boy, just insert the needle under. No, dear. Under. Try again.”

Will held the bamboo needles awkwardly; they felt foreign and clunky in his grip. “Like this?”

“No, that’s over. Under... _UNDER_.”

Will stopped and took a deep breath and examined his handy work. He’d been at it for an hour and all he had to show for it was a lumpy strip of yarn that looked as though [Anaïs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6024883/chapters/14518588) had gotten a hold of it.

“I’m hopeless,” he said with frustration.

“Nonsense. If you can make a fishing lure, you can make this.” She took the needles from Will’s hands and unraveled his progress. “Once more from the beginning, Martin.”

**+++**

Over the next few weeks, Will had taken to working on the scarf in the afternoon while Hannibal prepared lunch. To do so secretly required some stealth on Will's part, and unfortunately, a bit of white lying. He would make an excuse to sequester himself somewhere in the house. Hannibal, however, began to grow suspicious that Will was hiding something. 

“Will, I am driving to town. I just realized I am out of saffron for the mussels.”

“Sounds good,” he replied looking forward to another opportunity to tackle several rows.

“Would you care to accompany me?”

“No, that’s okay,” Will replied a little too quickly.

“Are you sure? We can stop at Saveurs for an affogato on our return home.”

“Naw, I’m good. Thank you, though.”

Hannibal glanced at Will with a skeptical eye, “Very well. I shall return in an hour or so.”

Will walked Hannibal to the door and kissed him on the cheek. “See you in an hour,” he said as he closed the door behind Hannibal.

Will then watched from the window as Hannibal’s car drove away. Once he was completely out of sight, Will ran to the linen closet where he procured his work in progress from the tote bag he got during their visit to Paris. Will pulled out the scarf and looked it over, a knitting needle hanging from one end causing the scarf to swing like a pendulum. He had hoped to make the scarf long enough for Hannibal to wrap around his neck three times but with how slowly Will’s progress was going, two would do. 

It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, to torture this expensive yarn in such a fashion. Rather than an elegant, narrow smooth rectangle, the scarf had taken the appearance of a puckered, long Rice Krispie treat. There were dropped stitches, tight rows, loose rows, some areas where he inadvertently increased -- and decreased -- his stitches, and he wasn’t even sure how he had done that. Will felt he had spent more time Youtubing “How to" videos rather than actually knitting. Still, progress was being made and this pleased Will immensely.

**+++**

Hannibal, being attuned to all things Will, noticed some secretive burden Will began to carry. It didn't bother Hannibal at first but after a few weeks, concern grew deep within him. What was this source of quiet anxiety Hannibal was seeing? And what exactly was Will doing while he was away? 

Was their life together starting to take a toll on Will? Was Will tired of killing? Or worse yet, was he tired of Hannibal’s cooking? What if? What if… No, it could not be. Hannibal knew it couldn’t be another lover. That would be absurd. He and Will had sworn an oath to one another, an oath stronger than any other bond. Stronger than anything any other person, or distraction could possibly bring. So what was happening?

**+++**

By now Will had Clotilde’s number on speed dial on his cell. He was just about finished with the scarf, and happy with the length it had reached but he realized he had no idea how to cast off the stitches and finish it. He saw the videos and read his trusty knitting book Clotilde had given him, but couldn’t quite get how to cast off. A boat? No problem, he could easily cast that off. The scarf? Not so much. He stared at it and knew Hannibal could not walk around with knitting needles hanging off the end of this scarf forever.

 _Fuck_ , Will thought and sighed as he dialed Clotilde’s shop.

“Hello, Clotilde?”

Hannibal had come back from his swim earlier than expected because of a faulty pool filter which caused a mass exodus at the gym. He walked in and set his keys on the hallway table and was about to call for Will, when he heard his voice coming from the kitchen. He could hear Will was on the phone...

“Yes, I’m almost done with it all. It’s just...I realized I don’t know how to end it.”

Hannibal’s breathing stilled as he listened from the other side of the doorway. “I fear it’s ended up somewhat of a mess but I’m too far in now, Clotilde,” he heard Will say.

[Encephalitis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6024883/chapters/14193673) walked up to Hannibal and nudged him with her head. Hannibal looked down at her and held his finger to his lips to silently shush her.

“Can I come by? I can’t do this over the phone. I have to see you.”

Encephalitis barked as Hannibal began to tiptoe away. The last thing he heard Will say in a whisper was, “I have to go. I think my husband is home.” 

**+++**

A few years ago, Hannibal would have most certainly reacted quite differently. He would have taken the “Gut First, Ask Questions Later” approach but in the growing wisdom of his years he realized that overreaction is not the best reaction. So the next evening during dinner, Hannibal decided to do the sensible thing and just ask Will. It seemed so much easier than contemplating gutting the man of his dreams.

“This cassoulet is amazing. Thanks, love,” Will said as he happily dug in.

“I know it is your favorite, Will.”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“Will?”

“Yes?”

“Have you taken a lover?”

Will did as close to a spit take as one could with a mouth full of white beans. “What?” he asked.

“Have you taken a lover? If so, tell me now and we shall decide what the next step will be.”

Will wiped his mouth and chin with his napkin, raised his eyebrows and said, “I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”

“Who is Clotilde, Will?”

“Clotilde?”

“Yes, William. Clotilde.”

Will sighed, got up, threw his napkin down onto the table as he mumbled, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Hannibal remained at the table, hands folded in his lap, calmly waiting for Will’s return.

Will reappeared and plopped a gift bag in front of Hannibal and said, "Here." He sat back down at his place setting and added, "I made that for you, you goddamned jerk.”

Hannibal stared at the bag afraid to look inside. Would it contain Clotilde’s heart by chance, as a remorseful peace offering -- or something else? Something sweet and kind that would undoubtedly make Hannibal feel like an unmitigated ass. He looked inside, mortified, and pulled out the long soft cashmere scarf. He blinked at it for a few quiet moments, his expression then changing into one of complete love and awe.

“You made this...for _me_?” Hannibal asked feeling equal parts shame and joy.

“Yes, and it took forever so please don’t get any of your dinner on it.”

“I...don’t know what to say,” Hannibal said softly.

“How about thank you, you horse’s ass.”

Hannibal walked over to Will with the scarf in hand and knelt next to him, “You _made_ this? With your own hands?” 

“Yes. Can't you tell?” Will smiled.

Hannibal examined it and smiled broadly, “Will, it is beautiful.”

“It’s tragic is what it is, but it’s my first attempt. Look at all of the holes where I dropped a stitch,” Will laughed.

Hannibal rubbed it across his cheek, “I have never seen a more beautiful scarf.”

“Clotilde said I can sew up the holes so they won’t be too obvious.”

“Clotilde?”

“Yes, the septuagenarian shop owner who taught me how to knit. Or, you know, my new secret lover.” Will rolled his eyes and gently thumped Hannibal on the chest.

“I apologize, mongoose. I am sorry. You were just acting so peculiar -- and I knew you were hiding something from me.”

“Yes, my superior crafting skills. I’m pissed you think there could be anyone else for me but you, but I can see how you might have thought that -- not that I’m justifying your reaction at all.”

“Will, I am truly sorry.” Hannibal looked at the scarf once more and beamed, “I adore my scarf.”

“Flaws and all?”

“Flaws and all -- although I really do not see any.”

Will smiled, “You schmoozer.”

Hannibal threw the scarf around his neck, “Do you realize that the last person who ever knit anything for me was my mother?”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t think --- “

Hannibal interrupted, “You didn’t think? Of what? How kind and considerate you are? Thank you so much.”

Will looked at Hannibal, and once more realized how truly vulnerable and gentle the man before him was. For all his animalistic, destructive and carnal behavior, in many ways Hannibal was still just a boy who never got over the loss of his family. Will stroked Hannibal’s face gently and leaned in to kiss him on the lips -- a whisper of a kiss.

“Let’s finish dinner,” Will said.

Hannibal nodded with a smile and stood up, wrapping the scarf around his neck once, feeling all of Will's love in it.

“Also, just so you know that scarf is multipurpose,” Will said.

“Multipurpose?” Hannibal asked with confusion in his voice.

“Yes, in addition to keeping you warm, it is also good for blindfolding and binding,” Will said with a smirk.

Hannibal grinned widely, “I see.”

“So, you better hurry and finish your dinner. I want to see just how strong my stitches are,” Will said with a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and visit me [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/).


End file.
